


there's no peace in quiet

by SecondhandLovers



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Character Study, F/M, Introspection, Post-Canon, and this as angsty as it gets folks, look i just needed the catharsis of writing some good ol' fashioned angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondhandLovers/pseuds/SecondhandLovers
Summary: The only respite, perhaps, is the fact he is fortunate enough to still feel her presence around him, despite the fact she is gone.
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	there's no peace in quiet

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry

  


Eugene is dreading her birthday, tonight.

He has spent the past eight of Rapunzel’s birthdays in her company, and while some of them have certainly been bittersweet-- (he thinks back to being kidnapped by the Stabbingtons, of fighting Varian’s automatons, of enemies that always seemed to resurface on the most _inopportune_ of days) -- the one solace was that, despite all the hardships, they were always **together.**

The idea of Rapunzel not being beside him when the lanterns rise makes his lungs feel heavy, and the ache in his heart is nothing short of agonizing.

  


* * *

__

It had all started with her feeling tired, far more frequently than she ever had before. Rapunzel was usually up with the sun— even after the most taxing of days, she was _always_ the first to rise. Which was why Eugene found it a bit odd when she started to sleep in— only an hour or two at first, then four, progressing until she would not even stir until well past midday. But it was when she drifted off in the midst of dinner with her parents that _fear_ truly began to take root in Eugene's heart. 

__

The kingdom's medics found nothing unusual, and hazarded a guess that it could simply be a result of aging, or perhaps something she was lacking nutritionally. It didn’t sit right with Eugene— she was still young, her diet unchanged, she _should’ve_ been in her prime. But Rapunzel insisted she was fine, and other than his wife needing the occasional nap, their life carried on as usual.

__

  


Next came the dizziness. Whenever she’d sit up quickly— which happened often, given her enthusiasm about the world, even after years of freedom— she’d need to brace herself against the nearest solid object to keep steady. Often, the dizziness was accompanied by nausea, and there was many a morning when Eugene would need to hold back the short tufts of her hair as she retched into the nearest bin. 

__

However, unlike her exhaustion, the nausea inspired a _different_ sort of anxiety— for it didn't escape their notice that her symptoms were all-too reminiscent of pregnancy. They hadn’t been _trying_ to get pregnant, but it certainly wasn't impossible. The idea of jumping into parenthood unprepared terrified them-- neither Rapunzel nor Eugene had a good childhood, and they often feared they would be ill-equipped to raise a child of their own. But after talking it through, the pair decided that if she _was_ pregnant, they would be all too happy to offer their child the best life possible. After all, they were a team, and they knew that even if they faltered at times, they would always love their children unconditionally. 

There was a heavy silence in the air when the doctors told her she was not, in fact, with child. They tried to convince themselves it was for the best, that it just wasn't the right time-- but as they left with some herbs for her stomach and the news their family would not be growing, they were unable to shake the disappointment in their hearts.

__

__

Finally came the weakness. Eugene had always admired Rapunzel’s strength— despite her small frame, she was _strong_. Between hoisting the weight of her allies when she still had her hair, or having a hell of a swing with a cast-iron pan, he had seen firsthand that her physical talent was just as impressive as her strength of will. 

But as they went trail riding one evening, Rapunzel, who was typically eager to out-race him on horseback, asked if they could keep the pace slow. Eugene was concerned, but dropped the subject at her request. That was, until she dismounted Max at the end of their ride and collapsed to the ground, her legs having buckled beneath her own weight.

__

That was when Eugene’s fears had morphed into pure, unadulterated _dread._

  


__

Other than her vital signs being weaker than normal, the doctors could not find neither cause nor cure, and it was then that Eugene and Rapunzel turned to Xavier for help. 

__

__

And-- after significant time, questioning, and careful research, the blacksmith came to a conclusion that felt like a blow to the gut. 

As it turns out, the Sundrop had healed many, but it had never chosen a vessel at birth before. Unlike Arianna, or Pascal, or Gothel, or Eugene himself— Rapunzel was not just restored by the Sundrop’s powers. She had _absorbed_ them, becoming intrinsically combined with the powerful magic from the moment she arrived in the world. The Sundrop was not only a part of her, but it had sustained her. It was tied to her very lifeforce. 

__

And much like the flower that had been kept hidden inside her father’s vault, without the power of the Sundrop inside of her, she had begun to _wither._

__

  


Of course, half of Corona had immediately sprung into action at the news. They had searched tirelessly across the seven kingdoms for a cure, for a way to prolong the inevitable. 

__

Eugene had gone on many a mission himself, refusing to sleep for days at a time, traveling to the furthest reaches of the seven kingdoms and then some in an attempt to find a solution. It is only after Rapunzel begged of him to stay that he obliged. He would've travelled to the ends of the earth to save her, but in the end, she only wanted him by her side. He could hardly deny her that much.

__

The searches did not end, however. Their most capable allies had exhausted just about every possible resource they could in an attempt to find some way to stop the failing of her body-- to no avail. 

__

The only potential solution they ever found was talk of a spell that could help one attain immortality, which Rapunzel shut down immediately. She would _not_ turn into Gothel, would not chase magic in a vain attempt to cheat death. She would not watch all her loved ones grow old and die while she was cursed to live on for eternity.

__

Her loved ones, however, would not be so lucky, and would have to bear losing _her._

__

To Eugene, it was nothing short of cruel and maddening. They’d encountered moonstones and demons and curses and magical _tops,_ and yet they could not find a way to keep her from withering away.

__

  


He would never forget how _helpless_ he felt, watching her deteriorate. 

__

He remembered how painful it was to die, up in the tower. But even Rapunzel’s end was not quick and heroic. It was slow, and devastating— taking away parts of her, bit by bit, over the course of years— until she became a shell of her former self. 

__

He would’ve given his life again in a heartbeat if it meant she got to live on, but that is not an option he was given this time around. 

__

  


In her last year, even the simplest of tasks rendered her breathless. She could no longer walk on her own, could no longer hold a paintbrush without her hands trembling. Despite her lack of mobility, Eugene carried her everywhere he could, often taking her outside so she could continue to watch the bustle of life in her kingdom. She never did deserve to be cooped up indoors.

__

“I always thought our bodies would get old _together,_ ” she mused one evening, sitting atop a grassy hill with Eugene at her side, watching the sun set over the kingdom. “I’m really sorry that you have to carry me around so much.” 

__

“Getting to hold my beautiful wife in my arms? That’s hardly anything to apologize for, sunshine.” He shot her a teasing smile, although he knew the joy didn’t quite reach his eyes the way it used to.

__

She laughed lightly, though the very action made her breathing grow ragged. “Promise me something, Eugene.”

__

“Anything.”

__

“Promise me that when I’m gone, you’re going to go find a new dream.”

__

Eugene swore he could feel his heart _crack_ at her words. Like the breaking of a dam, he felt his eyes well up with tears, and a desperate, choked sound came bubbling from his throat that he might've been embarrassed about if his heart wasn't so busy breaking. He met her eyes with a desperation in his own. “Rapunzel, please don’t say that. There’s still time to find a cure. Cass is due back from the scouting mission any day now, and Varian just got a new lead about a spellbook in Koto that—” 

__

She cut him off by cupping his face with one hand, as the other found its way into his hair. There was a resigned look in her eyes, and though her skin had once radiated warmth, her hands were now cold against his skin. “Hey,” she soothed, “It’s gonna be alright. I’ll always be with you, okay? I just want to make sure you find happiness with someone again. That you’ll find a new dream to fight for. Promise me?”

__

His shoulders trembled in an attempt to keep his emotions from spilling over entirely. “Sweetheart, I—“

__

“Promise me. _Please_.” 

__

“I... I promise.” 

__

Rapunzel's eyes darted back and forth over his face, a sad smile gracing her lips.

__

“You’re lying.” 

__

He didn’t deny it. He knew he didn’t need to, she always could see right through him. Instead, Eugene allowed his forehead fall gently against her own, taking a moment to simply breathe in her scent, her touch, her voice. “You’re the love of my life, Rapunzel.”

__

“And you are mine, Eugene Fitzherbert.”

__

  


He buried her less than a week later.  


  


* * *

  


It has been nearly ten months now, since her death. 

Eugene feels her absence with every breath he takes-- a deep, hollow ache that never truly goes away. The only respite, perhaps, is the fact he is fortunate enough to still feel her presence around him, despite the fact she’s gone.

 _Of course,_ Eugene supposes bitterly— that is not an uncommon sentiment to have, after the death of a loved one. Everyone in the kingdom claims she will live on in their hearts, in their memory. But the difference is, to _him,_ it goes far beyond sentimentality.

Rapunzel never left him, not truly.

He feels her in the way the breeze playfully ruffles through his hair, despite the trees remaining still around him.

He sees her in the way the candles flicker in time with the melody, whenever someone's singing voice carries down the halls.

He senses her in the way, nearly every morning, he finds a different wildflower atop the windowsill where they had so often sat and poured their hearts out to one another.

Eugene has never been a spiritual person, has never given much thought to the afterlife. Although he's fought ghosts and spirits and entities that he cannot explain, there is an extent to which he believed that death was _final,_ and any contact with someone once they're gone wasn't possible.

But, of course, he should've known-- if there was one person to give him faith in what he once thought impossible, it would be Rapunzel.

  


He’s told others about it— how he believes she sends him messages, how she is still ever-present in his life, in ways that go beyond the metaphorical sense. The looks he receives in response are often nothing short of pity or concern.

Perhaps he _has_ lost his mind, after all. Without her, he can't find the strength to care.  
  
  
He's left their bedroom exactly as it was before she died. He does not let handmaidens inside to tidy up, nor does he allow anyone to pack away her things.

He stays sleeping on his side of the bed, and some nights he swears he can feel a warmth emanating from her place next to him. (When he reaches out, though, his hand finds nothing but air. It doesn't stop him from trying.) 

He does not touch her art, but some mornings he will wake to find a brush dipped in paint that wasn’t there before. Or on the nights when he is loneliest, he will wake to find her journal open on the table, flipped to a page that reminds him of happier times.

And he talks to her, often.  
  
  
“Guess what Lance just told me, sweetheart? Kiera’s getting _married,_ ” Eugene announces to an otherwise empty bedroom. The window blows open at that, the lanterns on their ceiling rattling with the strong gust of wind. He laughs.

“I thought you’d be excited about that. And to Annabelle, too! Remember when she and her sisters used to ask to braid your hair every time you’d step foot in the square? I miss those days. And I know they miss you too.”

The air grows still, this time. Quiet. He draws in a deep, trembling breath.

“Cass thinks I’m crazy, you know. I can tell, because instead of teasing me about it, she actually seems _worried_ ,” He laughs again, this time lacking any humor. “Thats how you know shit has gotten serious, I guess.”

Truth be told, he and Cassandra had softened to each other over the years. While they still were no stranger to banter, it had been a long time since there was any actual hostility behind it. The woman had just arrived two days ago, visiting Corona to be there in honor of the princess’ upcoming birthday. The first since her death. While Eugene appreciated the sentiment, seeing his wife’s friend arrive, knowing that she was not there to run up and eagerly greet her, _stung_ him worse than he anticipated.

(It certainly didn't help when Cassandra, who had never been one to initiate touch, had hugged him in condolences. Rapunzel would’ve been so _proud_ of them, and that very thought alone had nearly made him break down in the woman’s arms.)

  


He is brought back to the present as the air around his face cools, soothing the too-hot tears that he hadn’t even realized were rolling down his cheeks. He closes his eyes and relishes in the comfort.

“She misses you, though. So does Lance, and your parents, and Varian, and Max, and everyone else who has ever had the honor of being loved by you.”

His voice then drops to a whisper, a slight bitterness in his tone, "Though not to brag, sunshine, but I think I've got them all beat."

To say Eugene feels robbed would be an understatement. He had told her once, not long after they married, that he would be grateful for any length of time he was given with her. Thinking back now, it feels like a lie. Eight years together was nowhere near long enough. They deserved so much more. _She_ deserved so much more.

The wind blows again, the sound of it emitting a low, almost mournful whistle.

“I love you too, sunshine. I just hope that wherever you are, Pascal’s been taking good care of you.”

He is interrupted by a soft rapping on their bedroom door.

“Captain?” He can tell it’s Stan, despite the man’s voice being far more somber and reserved than he’s used to. “The, ah— the Queen is requesting you.”

“Be right there.”

It is when he hears the man’s footsteps retreating, that he turns his attention back to whispering to the room around him. 

“I’ve got to go. I hope I'll see you tonight, sweetheart.” 

There is a warmth that he feels grow over his chest, spreading across a small area that is remarkably similar to the size of her hand. When it leaves, he feels far colder than he ever has before.

  


* * *

  


In the dark of the evening, when the sky above is a deep blue and the stars have just begun to appear-- he takes a boat, two lanterns, and rows himself out on the water alone. Eugene knows that the proper decorum would dictate that he'd be at the castle with the royal family, helping them release the first lantern in honor of the lost princess, taken too soon from them once more.

But decorum aside, her parents are nothing but understanding of Eugene's request-- and truthfully, he suspects they are grateful to have their own space and privacy to grieve tonight. 

It was tradition, to spend her birthdays out on the water, and it feels wrong for Eugene to be anywhere else. It is where they first fell in love, where he asked her to marry him, where they have spent every following year enjoying one another's company beneath the soft glow of lantern light.

He doesn’t intend to break that tradition now.

Instead of awe, there is a hollow ache in his chest when he finally sees the first lanterns rise from the castle balcony— a tradition that was originally forged from loss, somehow carrying even more sorrow than it had before.

He takes out a match and lights his own lantern first. But before he can light the second one, a flame bursts forth on the wick, seemingly of it's own volition. The ghost of a smile that crosses his face is nothing short of bittersweet. 

“Happy Birthday, Sunshine.”


End file.
